


30 Day OTP challenge: Malz/Kass

by Sona_Boobelle (orphan_account)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Fluff, M/M, OOC, gay shit, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Sona_Boobelle
Summary: 30 days of beautiful Malzahar/Kassadin! Oh yiss, hail the trash.  ヽ(；▽；)ノ





	1. Day 1: Getting lost somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Hooray for Malz/Kass and an author who can't finish what they start. (COUGH, MY OTHER WORKS, W H E EZE)

"Are we lost?"

"No."

"Kassadin..."

"...Most likely." 

Malzahar stares at his counterpart in disbelief, but he doesn't act otherwise except for hugging the older man's arm. "Oh Kass." He says, and Kassadin grunts. "Don't rub salt in the wound." The prophet giggles at that, leaning his head to rest against the other's shoulder as they both walked along the path. His tongue rubs at the insides of his cheek, over the small indent marks he had made when he chewed and gnawed out of boredom. Kassadin is silent. 

"I can't believe you got us lost in a zoo."

"...Malzahar..."


	2. Day 2: Pet names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malz is dumb cuck

Now, Kassadin was in his study, minding his own business by occupying himself with a book, back hunched over the reading material as he'd immerse himself in the literature. His lips quietly moved, something he wasn't aware of whenever he read, he didn't really notice. Then the door to his room was kicked open, but thankfully the door stopper withheld the door to not slam against the wall. (What a marvelous invention- he had just got it a week ago and the indents made by the doorknob when slammed against the wall looked a bit blunt now.) He looks, slowly, expression placid. 

"Malzahar?" He says their name quietly, and Malzahar smiles at him, (a dangerous smile that meant the seer was going to do or say something dumb.) "Hiya nutsack."

Kassadin stares the turns around swiftly back to his book and recites a prayer under his breath. He turns around again, and Malzahar is now sitting on his desk. Kassadin inhaled sharply. Malzahar smiles fondly at him.

 

"It's a pet name, see?"

"That's not... what a pet name means-"

"What do you mean? I had a pet rat named nutsack, it is a pet name."

Kassadin looks at the prophet, stares at their eyes as if trying to find any signs of the male trying to bullshit him. There was none. Kassadin recites another prayer. 

Malzahar frowns. "What?" 

"A pet name, isn't nutsack. I- it's," Kassadin fumbles for the right words to explain to the other, but struggles. "It's like, me calling you Malz, that's a pet name."

"But you don't call me Malz-"

Kassadin exhales. "Malz-" 

"Ah, there you go."

 

"I'm just providing an example." Kassadin explains, and this causes Malzahar to groan. 

"KAAAAAAASSY!"

"There you go, that's a pet name."


	3. Chapter 3

"Maybe I should call Soraka," Kassadin says skeptically. "She is the best healer I know-" 

"No!" Malzahar said, and the prophet lunges at the Void walker, toppling them over and eliciting an 'oof.' Kassadin grimaces. He had landed directly on the wound he had received from an enranged poro, angry that he had forgotten to feed it its snax. Well, it wasn't entirely his fault to forget, he was just trying to play the game- toss poros! Malzahar hovers over him, arms crossed, expression muffled by their cowl and hood. Kassadin grunts. 

"I'll patch you up. I have a degree in supporting, you know?" 

"Well that's supporting, not healing."

"Same thing." 

Kassadin is about to retort, but Malzahar drags him up by his arm, pushing him onto the bed. Kassadin wheezes. Malzahar smiles devilishly. "Now," The seer reaches under the bed to pull out a box. Kassadin stares. Malzahar opens the box to reveal menacing surgical tools. Kassadin stares even more.

"Malzahar- you know that I was only bit by a poro, right?" Kassadin says slowly, mind whirling at the sight of those very much large scissors. 

Malzahar smiles. "Oh yes." He pulls out another tool, a scalpel, and Kassadin starts to sweat. "I'm going to have to cut away-" 

Kassadin scrambles off the bed, and reaches for the door, only to find it locked. He swears. Malzahar smiles. "What's wrong Kass? Afraid of the doctor?" 

"You're going to cut me open for just a poro bite!" 

"Yes! I am!" 

Kassadin struggles with the doorknob more violently. Malzahar cackles loudly.

The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kassadin forget to eat his apples


	4. 4. Hospital visits

Kassadin couldn't fathom why Malzahar thought it was a brilliant idea to jump off a cliff and see if they would survive. Kassadin facepalms at the memory as he is seated outside of the room where his partner was currently being operated on. Sure, Malzahar was immortal, but that didn't make the prophet not prone to bone breaking- (which they broke nearly all, with many fractures in the spine and skull.) Kassadin grits his teeth. 

They were having a romantic evening, a picnic of sorts, talking some and eating some, laughing- until Malzahar said to him. "Hey Kassy, I bet I can break all the bones in my body if I jump off there." They point to a cliff edge, and Kassadin could only blink groggily. Both had quite a bit to drink, and Kassadin had thought Malzahar was bluffing- but boy was he wrong. Malzahar fucking jumped off and Kassadin yelled bloody murder. (He called Soraka to take care of this, and Malzahar was escorted to the hospital.)

Soraka peeks her head out, beckoning Kassadin inside, and he complied rather hesitantly. Inside, awaited Malzahar- almost brand as new, the same smug smile on that face when he had jumped off the cliff. "Kassadin!" The seer makes grabby hands towards him, and Kassadin grimaces. Soraka pats him on his shoulder in sympathy. "Next time, don't let him jump off another cliff, OK Kassadin?"

"Yep, sure." He sweats as he sees Malzahar marveling over a particular sharp saw set on a table a few yards of where he sat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stoP THE CHILd


	5. 5. Scar worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what this prompt wants me to write, LMAO
> 
> I think I did it right though

Kassadin was a docile man, passive, friendly, but that didn't make him a good man. He had done some things in the past that he would frown upon, and those things had left marks on his body. Lashes across his back made by a whip, and they embedded deep into his skin so- He looks at his hands, calloused. His hands trace his face, over his cheeks, nose, eyelids. He begins to dress again after observing himself in the mirror, but then Malzahar's head peeks into the room, and he can see their gaze being set on his back. He doesn't yell at the other to leave, Malzahar has seen them before. (But he couldn't help but feel irritated because they didn't knock at his door or anything.) 

"Hi Kass." Malzahar says, and they sit besides him, the new weight causing the bed to creak. Malzahar bounces a bit to emphasize the sound, and giggles quietly. Kassadin doesn't look towards them, and Malzahar leans against his side, breathing soft. "Kass?"

Maybe Malzahar did not mind his scars as much as he did- but Kassadin still felt a sense of shame. He could not see his scars as some pride, the scars- he had gained as punishment from doing bad deeds in his past. Something he wanted to forget, but the scars were imprinted on him as a reminder. Kassadin exhales the breath he had been holding in shakily, and Malzahar kisses his cheek. 

"I think they make you stronger, your scars." He says, and Kassadin blinks at him. "Well, not physically- but mentally." 

Malzahar brings his hand over the man's back, fingers tracing lightly over the marks. "I know that... you don't like them, that they remind you of something terrible, but-" Malzahar scoots a bit further up on the bed, legs tucked as he'd lean forward and kiss the faint scars, kissing them all- (the lower ones he touched softly, since his lips couldn't really reach there.)

"Just know- whatever hurts you, makes you stronger?" He ends in a laugh, and Kassadin couldn't help but snort quietly.

"Thank you." He says, and the Void walker spins around only to scoop the seer up in their arms, hugging them tight, and Malzahar grins fervently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay fluff, KEK


	6. 6. Making fun of one another

Malzahar would like to call himself quite skilled in pottery making, he had done so in his younger years, aided by one of the many tutors his wealthy family had bought for him for entertainment. His hands flit over the wet material as he'd mold the pot in progress to something wonderful, tongue wetting his upper lip in deep concentration. 

Meanwhile with Kassadin, he was suffering. He didn't know how to do this shit. His pot making looking much like a limp penis, and Malzahar snickered, calling them out for it. "Wow Kassy, didn't know y-" 

Splat.

Kassadin grabbed one of the multiple art supplies that were scattered about the floor and threw it at the seer, white paint flayed against their features and Kassadin smiled contently before turning back to his dick pot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dick pot


	7. 7. Death of someone close

Malzahar had a difficult time understanding his emotions after the Void had corrupted him, his feelings came and go, always fleeting and never staying. But after the death of his beloved Kog'Maw, Malzahar- he felt something, and that 'something' stayed with him over the days and weeks. His heart felt heavy, an emotion that was just so foreign to him- he places a single hand over his chest, where the organ would be, and quiets for the 'thump, thump' beating of his heart. He believes this is him feeling sad, grief, depression. 

He feels Kassadin sit down besides him on the bed, and the bed dips in favor of the extra weight, creaking. He feels Kassadin hug him, the man's warm arms wrapped around his torso, and those arms don't leave him, they don't stray away like his emotions, his grief, and Malzahar is thankful. 

He sees crying as weakness, a mortal thing to do, but he cries anyway. He couldn't help but do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry making Malzahar OOC, rofl


End file.
